Just a Color
by beaute-ephemere
Summary: Dramione. Written for Round 10 of the Houses Competition Year 2


**House : Slytherin**

 **Category : Themed**

 **Prompt : Former Enemies**

 **Word Count : 2345**

.oOo.

When Hermione Granger was a little girl, she loved the color green. It was pretty and soothing and it reminded her of nature. But when she went to Hogwarts, green wasn't just a colour anymore. It was a symbol of Slytherin, of the likes of Draco Malfoy, an emblem of the culmination of centuries of prejudice, and something she could in no way associate herself with. So, she bought crimson sweaters and let her emerald cardigans sink to the bottom of her trunk, barely giving them a second thought.

But after the war, she decided she didn't care anymore what it meant to other people. She cared only what it meant to her. She realised that life was too short to worry about such things. Besides, Gryffindor crimson reminded her too much of the rivers of blood that coursed along the tiles of Hogwarts during the final battle.

When Hermione went back to Hogwarts in June 1998 to help rebuild the castle with the aid of other 7th year students, her emerald green sweaters garnered little more attention than the occasional raised eyebrow. They were all too tired, sick of all the hate, to care much about the colour of anyone's clothes. When she went back to Hogwarts to complete her N.E. in September of that same year, with Harry and Ron already in Auror Training, however, it was a different story. The "eighth year" students, the few from her class that had returned to complete their education, all slept together in a separate wing of the castle and couldn't earn house points or play on a Quidditch team, effectively houseless, but an angry looking fourth year Slytherin came up to her, took one look at her green t-shirt and hissed "you're not one of us". Hermione had drawn her wand, her lips curled into a mocking smile, and suggested he "run back to his little friends and think twice before threatening former soldiers in deserted corridors", but the experience had left her more shaken than she'd ever admit. She had thought, perhaps a little too naively, that that kind of thing would have been wiped out by the war.

On the second day of term, Hermione noticed something that shook her to her very core. A group of Gryffindors bullying a small Slytherin. She told them to scram and gave the Slytherin a lemon drop, expecting it to be an isolated incident. But as the week wore on, she realised it wasn't. Not at all. In fact, the entire house of Slytherin was being shunned by the rest of Hogwarts, especially by the Gryffindors. Sickened, Hermione went straight to McGonagall.

"I can't believe it, Headmistress! It's awful."

"I quite agree, Miss Granger, but I don't really have the time to deal with this at the present time. Perhaps you would like to?"

"I would be most obliged."

"Very well. Perhaps you'd like a word with them? The password to the Common Room is "Hyacinth". Dinner has been over for almost an hour, most of the students should be in the Tower."

"Perfect. Thank you very much."

.oOo.

A few minutes later, Hermione took a deep breath and walked into the familiar Gryffindor Common Room. A hush fell over the room, and a few younger students' eyes grew wide in awe. Taken aback, Hermione was unsure how to proceed.

"Uh - hi, everyone."

"It's Hermione Granger!" someone squealed.

"No kidding," a boy retorted. "What do you want, Hermione?"

His question jerked her out of her uncertain state. She had a mission, after all. "Listen, guys," she began. "It has come to my attention that a fair number of you are ostracizing some of your fellow classmates. Your Slytherin classmates, to be more precise." She held up her hand to silence the protests that began to erupt across the room. "I don't want to hear it. We fought a war against prejudice, against hatred. I refuse to sit by as all the sacrifices we made are reduced to nought by petty bullying. Yes, some of them are jerks. But a lot of them are just children. Don't punish the sons for the sins of their fathers. Please."

The tower fell silent, and Hermione looked around. "I know I'm asking a lot. Forgiveness is no easy feat. But I have the utmost faith in you."

Mutterings filled the Tower. Hermione waited, waiting to hear what her former Housemates had to say… finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Ginny stepped forward. "We sided with our families, not necessarily because they were right, but because they were our _family_. The Slytherins did the same. If they'd won, how would we want to be treated?"

For a second, the Common Room is silent. Then Dennis Creevey spoke. "They killed my brother. They killed _our_ families… but we also killed theirs. And I guess- unless we forgive each other, our children will be killing each other."

Hermione nodded sharply. "Well said, Dennis." She looked at the assembled Gryffindors. "I know I can trust you to do what's right. We are Gryffindors - we do what is right, even if it's hard."

With that, she left.

After that, the bullying mostly ceased. While the Gryffindor-Slytherin feud ran far too deep to be solved by a simple speech, the two Houses were at least mostly civil to one another.

A few days later, Hermione awoke to a package on her bed. Perplexed, she approached it gingerly, casting a _Specialis Revelio_ for good measure. As it seemed harmless, she picked it up and noticed there was a note on the side.

 _Happy Birthday. Thank you for everything._

She didn't recognise the handwriting, and was even more confused. Thank you? For what? And how come this stranger remembered her birthday before she herself did? Shaking her head, she tore open the wrapping paper to reveal a beautiful bracelet. An emerald bracelet. It was beautiful, and clearly very expensive. She had no idea why anyone who would spend that much on her wouldn't even bother to sign. Still scouring her mind for who on earth could have sent the present, Hermione crept out of her room into the eighth year common room. As it was still early, she was surprised to find someone in the common room. She was even more surprised when she realised it was Draco Malfoy. He was wearing a dark forest green shirt, and loath as she was to admit it, Hermione thought he looked good.

She had barely seen him since the beginning of term. He didn't often come to classes, and was nowhere to be seen the rest of the time. However, on the fateful morning of the 19th of September 1998, he was sitting in a leather armchair in the center of the common room. Even more bizarrely, he was staring straight at her.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

"Just wondered what you thought of it."

"Of what?"

"And they say you're smart."

"Wait - Did you - ? Why?"

"I'm not the Slytherin Prince anymore, but I still feel indebted to the little snakes. After all, it's partly my fault people hate them so much."

"And?"

"The walls have ears around here. I know what you did for them, Hermione. Consider the bracelet repayment."

"I didn't -"

"Just take it, Granger. I don't like owing people."

"Neither do I, and I really feel _I'm_ the one who owes you now."

"Not my problem."

"Incorrigible bastard," Hermione laughed, shaking her head.

"I do my best."

"I'm going to go have breakfast."

"Good for you, Granger," Draco drawled sarcastically, though a hint of a smile spread across his face.

Hermione thought back to their exchange as she chewed on her toast later that morning. It struck her as odd how relaxed Malfoy had seemed. Had he been like that for months? She couldn't believe how much he seemed to have changed. Then again, that's often what war does to people. Changes them. If it doesn't, it breaks them. Kills them.

Shaking her head as if to chase away her thoughts, Hermione turned back to breakfast. Suddenly, Ginny plopped down beside her, thrusting a messily wrapped package in front of her. "Happy Birthday babe! It's better on the inside, promise!"

"Thanks!" Hermione gingerly took the gift and unwrapped an immaculately preserved copy of - " _Hélas, je me suis Transfiguré les Pieds?!_ Merlin, Ginny! I've wanted to read this for years."

"I couldn't find a first edition, but I hope you'll settle for second."

"Settle? Are you kidding? You're the best!" As she carefully leafed through the first few pages, the bracelet slid down from under her sleeve.

"Hermione Jean Granger, what on earth is _that_?"

"What? Oh, this? A birthday gift. I'll admit he went a bit overboard..."

" _He?_ Is this from Ron? Silly me, of course not. He probably didn't even remember it was your birthday. It better not be from Harry. No, he wouldn't think of that kind of thing. Well, I'm stumped. Who is it?"

"Draco."

"Draco?! Firstly, since when are you on first name basis? Secondly, Draco-bloody-Malfoy gave you this?"

"Uh - yes? No need to get your panties in a twist, he's just repaying me for telling the Gryffindors to play nice."

Ginny shook her head dramatically. "Poor, naive girl! What on earth would you do without me? I shudder to think of it! Hermione, this is not just any old thank you gift. This is _really_ nice jewellry, even for someone like Malfoy."

"Why would he give it to me, then?"

"Take a wild guess?"

"No, Gin. Stop it. I - He does _not_ like me."

"Give the man a chance. He just spent a vast amount of his fortune on a birthday gift for a girl who barely even knows he exists!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Okay!" Ginny cried. "I went a little overboard. But, seriously, Hermione. What could go wrong?"

"Famous last words," Hermione muttered.

.oOo.

In Arithmancy two days later, Professor Vector announced the class would be working on a project for the rest of the year. "I've never seen a class so gifted! I truly think you can accomplish splendid things. If everyone could split up into pairs, we can begin at once."

Hermione turned towards Ginny, but the other girl was pointedly ignoring her. Confused, Hermione suddenly spotted Draco out of the corner of her eye. Alone. Oh. And wearing another one of those dark green shirts he looked oh-so-good in.

Against her better judgement, she walked up to him. "Partners?"

He looked up. "Why?"

Hermione shrugged. "Because I wanted to?"

He paused. "Okay then, please don't answer my previous question, I won't look this particular gift horse in the mouth. Take a seat, Granger."

"Please, call me Hermione."

Over the next two hours, Hermione and Draco brainstormed, ideas fizzing and fusing all over the place. By the end of the class, they had come up with a handful of great ideas, and to Hermione's great surprise, she had enjoyed herself while doing it.

.oOo.

That evening, Hermione heard a knock on her door. "Come in," she called.

It was Draco. "Good evening, Gra - _Hermione_. I was wondering if you'd oblige me with a walk around the grounds." He made a show of holding out his arm.

Slightly bemused, Hermione acquiesced. "Be right out." She slipped on her boots, and with that, they were on their way .

The pair walked along the side of the Black Lake, talking about nothing and everything. Conversation flowed easily, and the silences were few and far between, and even they were comfortable. After a while, Hermione suggested they sit down on the grass.

She gazed out at the water, which in the setting sunlight was no longer black, rather, it was the deep, dark green of Draco's shirts. _I wonder what he looks like_ without _his shirt_ , she thought, shivering at the thought.

"Are you cold?" Draco asked.

"Hm? Oh, I - " Hermione began, abruptly pulled from her reveries.

"Allow me," he said, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders.

"Thank you," she whispered. At that moment, Hermione was overcome with the sudden urge to kiss him. She no longer cared about the consequences, the implications of what she was about to do, she only knew that it was what she wanted. Perhaps this man had done awful, unspeakable things, but right now, he was charming and good-looking, and Hermione thought _what the hell._ And so she leaned forward, pressing her lips to Draco's. But no sooner had the kiss begun, than he pulled away.

"I - I can't."

"I'm sorry, I thought - "

"No, it's not you. It's just..."

"Don't you dare tell me that you don't deserve me or some similar rubbish, or so help me Merlin, I am not responsible for what I do to you."

"It's for your own good, Hermione. People I care about… they get hurt, and I don't just mean emotionally."

For reasons that reason itself knows not, Hermione felt tears sting her eyes. "I guess I'll be fine then!" she snapped, getting up and running off into the darkness, her feet pounding on the lush green grass. "Wait!" she heard him cry out, but she did not, could not, and she kept running.


End file.
